The Morning After
by SpyKid18
Summary: Cristina moves back in with Meredith, but at Seattle Grace problems are never too far away.  Particularly when the problem is both your husband and Attending.   C/O
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So..the finale? Ah-mazing. While it wasn't as moving as last year's (but what could be?) I cannot stop thinking about all the little seeds Shonda Rhimes and company planted. Hence, this story was born! Hope you enjoy!**

The Morning After: Part I

For all the time Cristina Yang had spent in that corner room at Ellis Grey's house, she felt miserably out of place now. The bed was too firm, nothing like the soft one she had shared with Owen, the cushion giving in easily to her body. The room was too small, the walls seemingly closing in on her as she willed her senses to return. The walls were _not_ moving, and the bed was just fine. She would make do, like she always did.

Owen wanted to kick her out? Well, she would soldier on and find her own way forward. She didn't need him to breathe, to move. She didn't need him to fall asleep anymore. Or at least that's what she told herself.

The reason she was wide awake and staring at the ceiling at two in the morning was because she had a restless day. Those thoughts kept her awake. And Zola's constant crying. Cristina swore the kid had endless lung capacity.

She listened to Meredith coddle the baby, talking endlessly about God knows what. She heard Derek's name and felt the weight press heavier on her chest.

Look at them, the twisted sisters. Both abandoned by the men whom they loved and claimed to love them. It was almost poetic in its injustice.

GREYS

Both women ended up in the kitchen long before either of their alarms were set to ring. The sun hadn't even peeked out yet, hours left before the darkness would rise. Cristina sat at the table, eating a bowl of cereal. The house was silent for a change, besides the soft clang of her spoon against the bowl.

Meredith grabbed a bowl from the cupboard and sat across from Cristina. She poured herself a full bowl of cereal and flooded it with milk. Both of them chewed in silence, their thoughts keeping them company. Cristina was the first to break, her hand trembling slightly as she dropped the spoon into her now-empty bowl.

Meredith looked up, noticing a familiar emptiness in her friend's eyes. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked quietly.

"No."

Meredith nodded, propping her elbow on the table and resting her head on her open palm. Across from her Cristina asked, "How about you?"

Meredith thought for a moment but then shook her head. "No."

GREYS

Mornings were different with a baby. While exhaustion was the default position for a surgeon, no longer could Meredith simply toss a poptart into her bag and leave the house with wet hair.

She didn't even have time for wet hair anymore.

Zola needed to be changed. She needed breakfast and Meredith was fairly sure that her baby teeth wouldn't make it through a poptart breakfast. So, she popped open a Gerber which Zola proceeded to spit out onto Meredith's last clean shirt.

Meredith passed Cristina as she wandered back to her bedroom to change her shirt and murmured, "Don't try to feed Zola the mashed peas. She does not like mashed peas, apparently."

"Believe me, I want nothing to do with feeding anyone's baby," Cristina muttered. "Is there coffee?"

"In the pot," Meredith said as she stepped into her bedroom and shut the door. Cristina padded down the stairs and turned into the kitchen, frowning when she saw Zola. The baby was seated a few feet from the kitchen table, a car seat strapped to the chair in what she assumed was a makeshift highchair.

Zola grinned wide toward her, reaching out one pudgy hand. Cristina shook her head and said, "Not happening, kid. Babies and I, not really on good terms right now."

She poured herself a large cup of coffee and leaned against the counter heavily. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to trick herself into thinking that she had not just woken up from a scant two hours of sleep. A loud crash to her side grabbed her attention and her eyes snapped open.

"What was that?" Meredith yelled from upstairs.

Cristina sighed and crouched down, picking up the toy that Zola had unceremoniously thrown across the table. Meredith rushed into the room, hastily buttoning up her shirt. Once she saw that Zola was in perfect health she exhaled loudly and said, "Okay, that scared the heck out of me."

"She throws things," Cristina told her, dropping the toy onto the counter. "You might want to work on that."

"Very funny," Meredith muttered.

"And you're off by a button." Cristina gestured to the crooked slant of her shirt and Meredith turned quickly, heading back to her room and she unbuttoned and then rebuttoned the shirt. She thought of how she would have to get the carseat back in the car and then drop Zola off at the hospital daycare. And then she would have to face Chief. And Derek.

She pushed thoughts of her husband from her mind and walked out of the bedroom, grabbing her purse and the diaper bag on her way out. The diaper bag hung awkwardly from her arm, nearly spilling wet wipes onto the ground as she jutted her hip out to nudge it upright. She nearly cried with joy when she saw Cristina had readied her travel mug with coffee.

Meredith unstrapped Zola from the car seat and stepped back, staring at it for a moment as she wondered how the hell she was supposed to juggle a diaper bag, Zola, and a carseat that still had to be put _in_ the car.

"Give me that," Cristina finally said, grabbing the diaper bag. She took the carseat, too, and said, "We are coming back for the coffee."

_Damn right we are_, Meredith thought as she followed Cristina to the car. Caffeine was going to be necessary to get through this day. Cristina was strangely adept at strapping the carseat into the backseat, stepping back after only a few minutes and telling Meredith, "You deal with the rest of this and I'll get our coffees."

She went back into the house, taking a moment to settle her nerves before grabbing the coffees and heading back to the car. Meredith was already at the wheel and the engine was running.

"Alright, you ready to go?" Meredith asked when Cristina slipped into the seat beside her. Cristina strapped her seatbelt and nodded. Yeah, it was time for them to go. Time to face suspensions. Time to face husbands. Time to face reality.

**A/N: Do you guys like this? Let me know-next chapter is all written. While this is mainly a C/O story, I still intend on following all main storyarcs created in the finale. So, you will get a bit of all the characters which in my opinion makes it all the more fun!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Wow. The response for that last chapter was just INSANE. Thank you so much to each and every one of you! I really appreciate all of your feedback and thoughts. This chapter takes you through all the doctor's first day back at work. There is some Teddy, Richard, Alex, Meredith, Derek, and of course Cristina and Owen. So, a little bit of everything! Hope you enjoy!**

The Morning After: Part II

Owen barely slept the night before, the bed feeling too large without Cristina beside him, the room too quiet without her soft snoring. He still had difficulty believing that he had really thrown her out. It was unlike his usual behavior, but he could think of nothing else to do in that moment. He couldn't look at her, not when she was using his love for her to validate that horrible decision. He still couldn't believe that she had made the appointment. Despite him knowing and somewhat understanding her hesitancy with motherhood, he had always thought he would be able to convince her otherwise. He believed in her, after all. Why couldn't she believe in herself?

The lights of the hospital felt too bright and he squinted, grinding his teeth together as he forced himself to soldier on. There were patients to see, after all. He also wanted to check in on Kepner, and see how her first day was going. Life went on, even if his was in shambles.

"Hello," Teddy said with a wide grin, falling into step beside him. "Great morning, isn't it?"

He looked down at her with a frown, thinking that due to his current circumstances her question did not warrant an answer. Teddy apparently considered the question rhetorical, as well, because she didn't even notice his frown and went on with, "A surgery is coming in from Michael Reese, too. Sounds like it's going to be a good one. Might even let Cristina scrub in for it!"

When that didn't garner a response from Owen she looked over at him and noticed for the first time the tightness of his jaw and dark circles that painted the baggy skin beneath his eyes. "Hey, are you okay?"

"I thought you were going to Germany," he said.

"Change of plans," she said, not convinced by his shift in topic and stepping in front of him. He came to a stop, avoiding her gaze. "Owen, what's going on?"

"It's nothing."

"You look like hell."

He chuckled darkly and said, "Well, thanks Teddy."

"Don't," she said sharply. "You can't pull that with me, remember? I know you-"

"Then you should know when to lay off," he answered shortly. "I need to get to my patients. I'll talk to you later."

He stepped around her and strode down the hallway. She paused for a moment, still a bit startled by Owen's behavior, but then she caught herself and moved on toward her own patients.

* * *

><p>Meredith walked from the daycare center, her palms itching to turn back and hold Zola for a few moments more. That baby was the only stable thing in her life at the moment. Everything was in flux, but she was solidly there. Zola with her pudgy hands and powdery scent. She was the one thing keeping Meredith sane. Unless things with Derek really were beyond repair. Then everything changed. Zola. Marriage. Her belief that perhaps the universe wasn't out to screw her at every turn.<p>

The Chief appeared from around the corner before her, looking ten years older than the last time they spoke as he ushered her to his office. She walked in first, turning at the sound of the door closing firmly.

"I need you to be completely honest with me now, Meredith."

"I told you everything," Meredith said, not interested in getting into another long discussion about the trial. She had told him everything.

"Yes, yes I know," Richard said, body pitched forward as he continued. "I need you to tell me exactly who knows about the trial."

"You mean the trial in general? Everyone in the hospital-"

"No," Richard said, shaking his head. "I mean about Adele. Who knows about Adele?"

"Well, only you, Derek, and I. Alex and Owen don't know about it being Adele."

"Okay," Richard said decisively, rubbing his beard as he thought through what to do next. "Okay, so that's only five people."

"Chief-"

"We're all going to have a meeting and talk this through. Yes, we'll sort this out. I'll page everyone and then Derek, did he come with you?"

Meredith shook her head, averting her eyes. "No, he didn't."

Richard looked at Meredith in surprise but then said, "Oh, well, okay I'll just page him, too."

"He's not here?" Meredith asked, her nerves picking up a note. Derek always got to the hospital early. She used to be the one to make him late, but without her…

Richard sensed her uneasiness. "He had a tough day, Meredith. I'm sure he'll be here."

She nodded, mind already tallying up all the awful fates that could have befallen her wayward husband. Richard cleared his throat. "Anyway, prepare to meet in about an hour."

* * *

><p>Cristina went through most of her day successfully avoiding her husband. She didn't even have to dodge and weave. Not one quick turn down a hallway. It almost was as if he wasn't there, and she grudgingly found herself becoming worried. It was unsettling, the worrying for other people. She used to only have to worry about herself. But then she found herself with a person. A husband. A baby.<p>

She wouldn't have that last one for much longer, though. Oddly, that brought no sense of relief. Neither did finding her husband in the supply closet.

"Oh," she breathed out, instinctively stepping backward to edge out of the room. He looked up from packets of gauze and his face went blank. She went to turn, but he called out to her and she found herself frozen.

"I'm your husband," he said in a low voice. "You don't have to run out of the room."

She frowned. How dare he throw that word at her? The way he acted last night, he had no right to even whisper that word to her. "You threw me out of our apartment!" she accused.

"And you're terminating our pregnancy."

"_My_ pregnancy," she shot back. "It's not making you need to vomit every morning, is it?"

"Unless it's an immaculate conception, Cristina, it's still _ours_. And knowing your religious convictions, I would say no."

She frowned, stalking past him and grabbing an IV bag. "Look," he said from behind her. "I don't want to argue."

"Well, good job with that."

Owen sighed and tried, "Where are you staying?"

"With Meredith," Cristina said crisply, picking up a few other odds and ends she needed. Despite her having everything she needed, she continued to rifle through bandages. To be honest, she was waiting for him to tell her to come home. He was the one who took her back. He always had and while she understood that this time was different, part of her still thought he would ask.

"When is the appointment?"

She hesitated for just a moment, hand hovering above a collection of butterfly needles. Of all the things she expected her husband to ask, this was not it.

"In two weeks," she said.

"I'm going with you." Her face registered surprise and he said, "Regardless of what is going on between us, I won't let you do that alone. You think you won't feel anything, but you will."

She looked away, an uncomfortable tickle in the back of her throat. He really was a good man, down to his core. As she nodded in agreement and then stepped past him, her arm brushing his, she thought to herself how terribly ironic it was that someone so good could love someone like her.

* * *

><p>Meredith and Derek always did have a thing for elevators. They met for another first time as the doors slid open and she headed in as he moved out. She stopped short when she saw him, the doors bleeping loudly as they sensed her form in their way.<p>

"Not now Meredith," Derek said dismissively, tired eyes looking at a spot to the right of her face.

"You're late," she stammered. "You're never late."

"I had a tough night," he shot back. "Guess my back doesn't like cold ground as much anymore."

"You slept at the building site," she filled in, frowning.

"Yes, Meredith, I did."

"We need to talk-"

"Not now," he held. "I just-I can't."

"But-"

"You better step back," Derek said. "Other people need the elevator." He turned without another word, and she mumbled to his retreating back, "We were granted temporary custody of Zola. If you even care anymore."

If Derek had heard that, he probably would have cared very much.

* * *

><p>Alex worked beside Arizona, assisting in a routine appendectomy on a six year old. As he handed Arizona a scalpel she casually said, "So, Lucy gave her two weeks notice."<p>

"Uh huh," he grunted.

"You two were involved, weren't you?"

"Not really." Arizona glanced over at him and said, "From what I heard, you two were."

Alex always knew Arizona was a great meddler and typically it didn't bother him. He sort of found it amusing how she found herself in other people's business. It was something for him to smirk and chuckle about. Thinking how pissed those other people must have been about it all. With her meddling in his business, he didn't find it nearly as amusing.

"Look, we slept together a few times. That's it."

"Someone's bitter," Arizona sing-songed, lifting the appendix out of the child's body and carefully slipping it into the waste bin. He found himself grudgingly impressed at her ability to meddle while seamlessly handling organs. It was a gift, really.

"She took the job in Africa from me," Alex huffed. "That was _my_ job and she just took it. Then she comes to me saying that I should give her a reason not to go. Like it's so hard for her to take such an awesome opportunity."

"It means she cares about you, Alex. She wanted you to give her a reason to stay." Arizona shook her head as she began to close the patient. "Seriously, sometimes you men are idiots."

"I know she was," Alex countered. "But there's no reason for her to stay. She's better off without me. And I'm better off alone, too."

Arizona glanced at him and said, "Alex, no one's better off alone."

"Yeah, well I am." His pager went off and Arizona told him, "Check it."

He glanced at his pager, frowning when he saw the Chief's name flash. There was only one thing the Chief could possibly want to discuss with him and it involved yet another blonde he wanted absolutely nothing to do with. "What is it?" Arizona asked.

"The Chief. He wants me at a meeting in ten."

"Well, then scrub out," Arizona said. "I'm pretty much finished here."

He nodded and as he turned Arizona said, "Make sure you say good bye to her. You'll regret it if you don't."

"The last thing I said to her was 'go to hell'. So, I highly doubt she'll be wanting to see me."

Alex could read the sad smile in Arizona's eyes as she repeated, "Make sure you say good bye to her."

* * *

><p>Meredith's pager went off, the Chief's number blinking. She turned around and headed to the Chief's office, falling alongside Alex on her way. He pointedly ignored her, although the clenched jaw and balled fists served as their own greeting. It was one Meredith found herself receiving often.<p>

Everyone was assembled in the Chief's office, Alex pointedly sitting in the farthest seat from her. Derek didn't even look at her, staring off at some space across the room. The Chief gestured for Meredith to sit and she dropped down into an uncomfortable office chair, crossing her legs.

"Alright, that's just Owen we're waiting for now," the Chief murmured. Moments later Owen walked in the room, muttering an apology as he took the seat beside Meredith. She felt a momentary fondness for the redhead, as he was the only one who didn't shrink away from her as if she were a pariah.

"Okay, that's everyone," the Chief said. "So, most of you probably know why you are here." A flurry of nods and the Chief continued. "There was a misstep with the Alzheimers trial, involving Dr. Grey. A sample was switched, so that a particular patient received the drug and not saline." Derek and Meredith glanced at each other, both wondering if the Chief would reveal Adele's identity. As the Chief continued, both averted their eyes. "Dr. Grey's actions, while wrong, did not alter the trial in any way. The results will still be accurate and I believe a lot of good- a lot of progress- could come from this trial. With this in consideration, along with the hospital's standing as a host site for trials in the balance, I am choosing to not turn Dr. Grey in. She will be suspended for a length of time but I will not be taking any further action."

The room fell silent and for a moment Meredith expected any one of them to jump in and demand her head on a platter. She was hardly on good terms with any of them, after all. Alex had moved out. Derek seemed steps away from serving papers. And Owen, well, Owen kicked her person out and that certainly made things dicey.

"Alright," the Chief said in closing, nodding his head approvingly. "That about settles things. Dr. Grey, you will be shadowing Dr. Hunt from now on. You will not be allowed to practice on patients until I give the ok."

"Are you sure I'm the best doctor for Meredith to be shadowing?" Owen interjected hastily. Meredith couldn't blame him for trying to get out of it. In his position, she wouldn't want to spend hours with herself, either. "I think Dr. Grey would be better off with at least someone with her intended specialty."

"You will be just fine," the Chief said. "I'd like to keep this as under wraps as possible. Obviously questions will be asked but the less talk, the better. We're keeping this in-house."

Owen slowly said, "By in-house you mean…"

"The less attention this gets, the better. Right now, only a handful of physicians know. It's best to keep it that way. I'm not asking you to lie or withhold. If someone asks you about it, you tell the truth. But this is what is best for the trial and for the hospital." He looked around at the others in the room. "Anything else?" He was met with silence and he nodded succinctly. "Good, okay, back to work then. You all have patients to see."

Everyone rose from the table, a soft din of conversation filling the silence. Meredith looked to where Derek had been sitting and was met with his back as he turned and walked quickly out of the room. She sighed, turning back to Owen. He looked uncomfortable, shoving his hands into the pockets of his labcoat.

"So.." he began, clearing his throat. "You ready, Grey?"

She nodded and followed him out of the Chief's office. As she fell into step beside him he said, "I hope everything with Cristina won't make this uncomfortable."

Meredith glanced over at him and said, "I'm capable of being professional if you are."

"Of course I am," he answered immediately. She nodded and told him, "Then there shouldn't be any problems."

"Thanks by the way," he said after a moment, "for letting her stay with you."

"I'm her person," Meredith answered easily. "We're always there for each other even when other people aren't."

The comment was pointed, perhaps a bit more that Meredith intended. After all, she was thinking more of her and Derek than anything. Owen took the comment for what it was, however, and simply cleared his throat before turning to his chart and briefing her on the first patient. "Patient's name is Pamela Morris. Fifty two year old female with..."

**A/N: I know this was a little Meredith heavy but I needed to set up her suspension for the rest of the story. Hope you enjoyed this! **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I'm going to state the obvious. I have been MIA for the past month or so. Usually I would offer a bunch of excuses here, but instead I will offer a promise that next chapter will not take a month to happen. Hopefully this was worth the wait.**

The Morning After: Part III

Owen Hunt was a proud man. He honorably served his country. He was a damn good surgeon. He shouldn't have to awkwardly proposition Meredith Grey to give him information on his wayward wife. It was demeaning. It went everything he believed in, everything that he thought his and Cristina's relationship had been. That was what it had come down too, though. Sometimes, life was unbelievably cruel.

"Cristina's staying with you." He knew he was fishing, hoping for some insight into how his wife was doing but didn't expect Meredith to budge. Meredith nodded and said, "Yeah, she is."

"How's she doing?"

"Considering that her husband kicked her out, she's doing fine."

The comment was pointed and he would have responded in like had he not heard the gossip surrounding her and Derek. The latter had been spending later hours at the hospital and he noticed the dance of avoidance between the two. He was doing the same thing with his wife.

He decided to change the subject. Perhaps later Meredith would be more willing to divulge Cristina tidbits later in the day. On second thought, she probably wouldn't. Meredith Grey was not the divulging kind.

"How's Zola?" he tried.

Noting the dark circles beneath her eyes he imagined that life was not easy with the new addition, but Meredith surprised him by offering the first genuine smile he had gotten since he had known her practically, and she said, "She is great. She's really great."

He found himself feeling the all too familiar pull of disappointment. He had hoped Cristina would be like this with their child. He thought of them making plans together. Making room. Now she was doing that on her own. Perhaps Meredith could be a good influence on her, though. He had grown accustomed to placing Meredith firmly on the side of someone he had to just accept would be in Cristina's life, with her self-masochist leanings and all. Things had shifted, it seemed.

"I heard you're going with her," Meredith said after a moment. She avoided eye contact but he listened attentively. "It's good of you to be there for her."

"You do know I'm going to do everything in my power to talk her out of it," he warned."

"I know. And she will fight like hell."

He snorted humorlessly and nodded his head. "Yes, she will."

A beat of silence and she said, "Give me the next patient's names and I will get the labs."

He understood the quick change of subject. She had given as much as she would. Knowing it futile to push her further, he looked down and told her the patient's name. He watched her move down the corridor and disappear around the corner. He noticed someone else watching Grey depart with a tight frown. He looked like he hadn't slept in days. He probably hadn't.

Owen thought to himself that he probably didn't look any better. Derek Sheperd turned away and the moment ended. Owen shook his head, trying to clear the clutter in his mind for just a breath, and then turned toward the patient's room.

* * *

><p>He didn't want to say goodbye to her. Even more, he didn't want to admit that he <em>wanted<em> to. Even though Lucy had stolen his job and whatever hope for future career satisfaction there was, Alex still could remember the smell of her shampoo and the way her nose would scrunch when she laughed. He remembered the shape of her lips and the smooth sheen of her skin.

And he wanted to say goodbye.

But he was too late. He asked for her in the OBGYN wing and a nurse looked up at him with a pitying look and said, "Didn't you hear? She left already."

"Oh, well-"

"It was sudden," the nurse said in a coddling tone. Alex bit his cheek, thinking that the hospital knew too much about his business.

"Whatever." His beeper went off on his waist and he looked down, Arizona's number flashing. He turned around without another word to the nurse and took the short walk to Dr. Robbins. She was going over a chart and glanced at him over the top as she said, "I have a surgery for you, Dr. Karev." She noticed the hard set of his jaw and asked, "Everything okay?"

"Everything is fine," he said immediately. He didn't care about Lucy. He didn't care that she left without saying goodbye. He would just add her to the list of people he pushed away and alienated. The list was growing rapidly lately.

But he didn't care; because if he did it would hurt like hell.

* * *

><p>Derek probably had a number of cases that he should be working on. He had a clinical trial, that despite Meredith's damndest efforts to undermine, was still up and running. He had many things that he could be doing; instead, he chose to hide away in the daycare center. Zola sat across from him, knocking over a pile of blocks with relish.<p>

His daughter.

He couldn't say it aloud, not when so much was wrong with the statement. It should be a happy thing. He should tell everyone within ear distance. Call his mother. His sister. Instead he was afraid to say it aloud, convinced that the moment he did someone would take her away.

Meredith had told him the news after the Chief's meeting. He had avoided her before, a childish notion that if he didn't see her they could ignore their problems driving his actions, but she cornered him after the meeting. He expected some harsh words. Admonishments. Instead she simply told him that Zola's adoption had gone through and then walked away. He had to think for a moment if she even wanted him to come back.

But of course she did. And he wanted to go back. He wanted to go back when things were simple and their life wasn't a webbed lie. There was no going back, though. Only forward.

His daughter reached one pudgy hand toward him and he clasped it lightly with his own, smiling toward her. If there was any sign that they would get past this, it was her. He bent down and kissed the top of her head, breathing in the powdery scent of her skin.

"We love you," he whispered against her cheek. "No matter what happens, we love you."

His beeper went off on the waist of his pants and he grudgingly looked down. Only five minutes of peace and they had found him. 911 blinked on the screen and he stood up, nodding to the nurse running the daycare as he walked out. It was back to work, now.

* * *

><p>Arizona Robbins was getting on Alex's nerves. They were in a routine surgery and while he assisted she worked across from him, humming a jaunty tune just below her breath. He noticed that she sutured in time and that is when it was just too much for him. It was like they were in a freaking musical or something. He expected her to break out in song any moment and then he would gladly impale himself with her scalpel.<p>

"Could you knock it off?" he sighed, fully aware that he was probably overstepping the bounds of attending and resident. Part of him expected Arizona to throw him out or completely ignore him. Instead she looked up at him steadily and said, "You are emanating some serious negative vibes. And I don't like it."

"You're humming," Alex explained sourly. "I can't focus."

"My OR is a place of positivity," she continued with a trademark Arizona-Robbins-grin. So bright that it could cure cancer. Or make him hurl. "Be positive. Your life will be a lot better, trust me."

"My Africa job was stolen. And then Mer kicked me out." Alex muttered. "My life is shit."

"Language," she said quickly, nodding her head down to the knocked out kid. He shook his head and said, "It's not like he can hear."

"You shouldn't swear around him, anyway. And the job was not meant to be."

"Meant to be?" Alex repeated snidely. "You believe in that shit?" She gave him a sharp look and he rolled his eyes. "Sorry, Robbins."

"I'm going to have to make a swearing jar for you," she said. "A quarter every time. And yes, I do believe in things being meant to be. There is a better opportunity out there for you. Just wait and see."

"I don't believe any of that."

"I know," she said brightly. "Which will make it even better when that opportunity appears. And I claim the right to gloat."

Alex snorted. Her unflagging positivity may be a lot to swallow at times, but sometimes it actually did help him not feel completely like shit. "Fine, you can gloat."

She grinned. "Yes, I can. Alright, you want to finish this up?"

Karev nodded and began to suture the wound. As he worked, Arizona watching from across the table, he thought that even as his life spiraled out of control we would always have this. He would have his patients. His steady hands. He could work with that.

* * *

><p>Kepner was getting a big head. At least that's what Cristina thought as she watched the petite brunette flit around the OR, throwing her clout around with jabbed instructions and firm nods. While her and Kepner had moderately bonded in the past few weeks, she still felt a flare of irritation when she saw her. She knew it really had nothing to do with her getting the position. Owen had told her she was not in the running and she had accepted that. Her efforts were better utilized in becoming a damn good surgeon.<p>

What really bothered her was the direction Kepner's life had taken. She knew Kepner didn't think herself truly in the running. Even with Owen determining their fate, everyone pretty much assumed it would be one of the original residents. She had, too. Unexpectedly, Owen pulled from out of the expected pool and Kepner's life was thrown forward in the most delightful way. Meanwhile Cristina found herself in a downward spiral. An unwanted pregnancy and a splintered marriage, Cristina didn't know how it could possibly get more difficult.

The answer came with an exhausted looking Meredith and a request to take Zola home with her. "What? What about you?" Cristina asked hurriedly, the thought of spending time alone with Zola making her palms itch.

"I'm going to be staying a bit later" Meredith said. "The Chief wants to go through some things with me. I promise you'll be alone with her for an hour, two tops."

"Fine," Cristina sighed. She was heading out anyway and told Meredith that she would swing by the daycare center on her way out. Meredith thanked her profusely and then turned on her heel. She thought of how she was going off to her husband and felt a stab of jealousy.

She never thought she would miss him this much. The first night she wrote off as her routine being thrown. She was accustomed to him being beside her at night, after all. The night seemed strange and cold without his soft breathing, the steady feel of his body beside her, his hand resting on her hip. She just had to get used to it.

It turned out that she missed more than the night. As she moved through her Owen-less days she found herself silently lamenting the absence of other things. Most of them were little moments that she had taken for granted. Company in the car. Sharing a paper. Casual conversations. Her and Meredith were not the best company for each other, both dwelling on the messes their individual lives had become. For the first time in a while, Cristina felt alone.

People looked at her strangely when she walked into the daycare. She wasn't one of the doctors who would go in to check on the kids or chat pleasantly with the nurse. "I'm taking Zola home," she told the nurse stiffly.

"Yes, Dr. Grey stopped in to tell us," she answered. "If you need any help-"

"I'm fine," Cristina said shortly, perturbed that she looked so unable to handle children. She could take her to the car without killing the thing. The nurse simply nodded, averting her eyes while Cristina hoisted the diaper bag on her shoulder and then picked up Zola.

On her way out, Cristina noticed that Meredith hadn't zipped the bag shut and she swore silently when an empty bottle toppled from the bag onto the floor. She was about to attempt an awkward crouch to retrieve the bottle when someone else bent forward quickly and picked up the bottle. She recognized the hand and felt such a surge of yearning that she almost felt indecent holding Zola.

"Hand me the bag," Owen said. She noticed that he didn't phrase it as a question. Usually she would bristle at this, but she handed over the bag without contest. They walked out to her car in silence. Her eyes were tearing up of their own accord and she couldn't stop one lone tear from dripping down her cheek.

She just missed him so damn much. She missed walking with him to their car. She missed his steady presence. Right now, she missed his conversation because the silence was making her want to scream.

"Shit," Cristina said suddenly, realizing a very large snag in Meredith's plan to have Cristina take Zola home. She also realized that she shouldn't swear in front of Zola and mumbled a half-hearted apology while Owen asked what was wrong. "Meredith drove," she explained. "I don't have a car."

"I'll take you then," he said simply.

Being in a car with him again was making her mind go in crazy loops and she stammered, "You don't have to."

"How else do you expect to get home?" She smiled a bit at the humor.

"I need to get the keys from Mer first," she said. "Get the car seat."

"Do what you need. Why don't you give me Zola for now. I'll be at the car. It's parked where it always is."

She handed Zola over, mouth pressed into a firm line. The last remark was like a vestige of their strained marriage and she felt her throat constrict as she turned away. Her eyes filled with tears almost instantly What was wrong with her today? She was a weepy mess; and Cristina Yang is _never_ a weepy mess.

She found Meredith quickly and she said, "I didn't even think of that. I guess you can take the car and I-"

"Don't worry about that. I just need the car seat."

Being her person, Meredith understood the subtext easily and didn't press her any further. She handed over her keys and said, "Just bring them back."

Cristina made quick work of getting the car seat and then returning the keys. Part of it was that she was naturally efficient. Another was who was waiting for her. He didn't quite smile when she returned, but she did notice his features soften. "You need help getting that in?"

She shook her head, opening the back seat and easily strapping the car seat in. She turned back for Zola, but Owen told her, "Get in the car. I'll put her in."

Cristina went around the car and opened the door, sliding in. Owen easily strapped Zola into the car seat and then he was beside her, pulling out of the parking spot. She glanced over at him. He usually laid one hand on the center console as they drove home, her fingers interlaced with his. Now both hands were firmly on the wheel. She turned her eyes away and directed her attention out the window.

Being a short drive, it wasn't long before he was pulled up onto the driveway. He pulled the keys out of the ignition and spoke to a space just to the right of her head as he said, "I'll help you in."

She nodded blankly.

They went into the house together, Owen depositing Zola into a little playpen that Meredith had found in the attic. It had been hers as a child and Cristina had seen the conflicted look on her friend's face as she had watched Zola play in there. She knew she was thinking of her own strained childhood and no doubt hoping Zola's would be different.

"Thanks for your help," she said, turning toward Owen. "It was, uh, nice of you."

"No problem."

She knew this was probably when he should leave, but she found herself asking, "Do you want anything? Something to drink, maybe?"

"I should head back."

She nodded automatically. "Right, of course."

"Unless you want me to stay," he said after a moment. She looked to the side, irritated with both of them. Of course she wanted him to stay. And of course he wanted to stay. Both were just too stubborn to ask.

"I'm fine," she said predictably.

"Okay, well, I'll see you at work, then."

_I'll see you at work._ It was what someone would say to their coworker, not their wife. Was this really what they had become? What they had devolved to?

"Yeah, see you then."

He left, but not before murmuring one last sentence that made her breath halt. "Take care now."

**A/N: I found this incredibly hard to write. I ended up doing it in pieces and then attempting to weave it all together. Hopefully it wasn't too choppy. **


	4. Chapter 4

Come Home

Lexie sat in Jackson's living room, books strewn on the floor in a seemingly random order, making the room look as if it had been hit by some medical-literature-tornado. She was on the floor with a pile of books between her legs, the top one opened to a detailed drawing of the brain.

"This is impossible," Lexie huffed, pushing the book off the top and onto her knee. She swore loudly, throwing the book across the room. Logically, she knew that throwing a hissy fit would do absolutely nothing to help her studying, but at this precise moment she didn't care to appeal to logic. After studying for six hours straight, logic was the farthest thing from her mind. She gathered her hair into a messy pony tail and said, "If I can't handle all of this with my photographic memory, than neither can the other interns. How the hell are we supposed to pass?"

"You're pulling the photographic memory card again," Jackson replied lightly, happy to see that bring a sliver of a smile to his girlfriend. "And you will pass. Why? Because you are brilliant, it just doesn't seem that way now. Everyone thinks they are going to fail when they're studying. I know I did."

"And?"

He grinned wide. "Passed with flying colors."

Lexie frowned. "I'm sick of studying."

"Only one week left and then the test will be over." Lexie leaned forward and swiped a candy bar from the table, ripping the wrapper off and taking a large bite. Jackson knew better than to comment on her stress eating, instead directing his attention to the studying efforts. "One hour more and then I'm taking you out to eat. And no arguing-you have to eat, don't you?"

Lexie's mouth pulled into a reluctant grin while she nodded. Yes, she did have to eat and she was lucky enough to have a boyfriend like Jackson to take her. He really was a catch. Good looking. Good natured. It was the stuff out of fairytales. Growing up, it was exactly what she was looking for-exactly what she wanted. With her cookie-cutter-home and cookie-cutter-family Jackson fit perfectly. This was the good life, she thought.

On second thought, her smile dimmed. Look far back enough and yes, she had a charmed life. But then things changed. Her mother died. Her father's alcoholism spiraled out of control. She was drawn to the blinking red light of Mark Sloan.

And if she were being truly honest with herself, that last thing had never really stopped. Sure, they could be apart. She could hold Jackson's hand and pass on more innocent grins, but if her hands weren't soiled with guilt, her mind was. Just last night she had thought of him during an intimate moment with Jackson. She nearly breathed out his name, but stopped herself before the damage could be done.

No, she didn't live the stuff of legends anymore. She didn't dance through life. She couldn't. But still her Prince Charming smiled at her, closing the book in his lap while he said, "Alright, I think we need to push dinner up. You look about to keel over. Carmines?"

She nodded out of reflex. Another smile, and Jackson reached his hands down to her. She stared at them for a moment and thought to herself that they were good hands. Strong yet graceful, they were undoubtedly the hands of a surgeon. He noticed her hesitation and prompted, "Lex?"

"Sorry," she managed, grasping his hands quickly and pulling herself up. His green eyes were studying her face, no doubt trying to work their way around the elaborate mask she had donned. She offered him a beguiling smile and thought to herself that sometimes the mask even fooled her. "Ready?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said slowly, hesitating for just a moment before sliding his hand along hers again. Together they left the apartment.

* * *

><p>Cristina did not tell Owen about her routine check-up, but was not surprised to find him at the door after. Her wayward husband had a way of knowing everything going on in the hospital, no doubt fostered by genuine friendships, or at the least acquaintance, with most of the nursing staff. It made him one of the better liked and informed doctors at Seattle Grace.<p>

"You didn't tell me about today," Owen said, the two of them standing in front of the door like awkward teenagers after a date. Cristina shoved her hands into the pockets of her lab coat and said, "You found out anyway, though."

"I'm not going to do some ridiculous grand gesture to make you rethink in there, if that's what you're afraid of. I just don't' think you should have to go through this alone."

"It was only a check up."

"And?"

She looked at a spot above his shoulder when she said, "Everything is in order for Friday."

"Three o'clock, right?"

She nodded, thinking that it was strange to hear him talk about all of this with such nonchalance. It sounded like they were discussing an oil change, not the termination of a child. Still, she preferred this to him begging her to reconsider. To be honest, the constant arguing had grated on her already depleted energy reserves. When they were finished she would have to drag herself to the coffee stand before she could utter coherent sentences.

"I have a good surgery," Owen began slowly, looking down at his wife to gage her interest. "I'd like you to scrub in, if you're okay with that."

Never one to turn down surgeries, she nodded automatically and replied, "Of course."

Her voice was monotone and it hurt him to think that she was simply responding in habit. He had really hoped that this would serve as a bridge. They would have to deal with Friday together, after all.

"Alright," he said. "It's at one. See you then?"

"Yes," she said, voice stilted. "See you then."

* * *

><p>Sometimes Cristina wished she hadn't become so familiar with her coworkers. Never having separated her home and work life, the two flowed together into a tangled mess that culminated in Callie cornering her in the cafeteria and demanding, "Now, tell me what is going on with you and Hunt."<p>

"What?" Cristina replied dismissively, pushing past the Latina and sitting down at a nearby lunch table. Callie took the open seat beside her and said, "He's been all weird and so have you. I've heard rumors, you know."

"You shouldn't believe everything you hear," Cristina replied dryly, picking up her sandwich and taking a bite. It was turkey and swiss today, not exactly her favorite.

"You're not pregnant then?" Cristina's silence, marked by a sudden lack of chewing, served as her answer. "Can only think of one reason Hunt would be upset about that."

"This is really none of your business," Cristina said.

"A baby can be a good thing, even when it's unexpected. I mean, take me for example. I got knocked up by Sloan and the kid still turned out okay."

"I have my reasons," Cristina said evasively.

"Which Hunt clearly doesn't agree with." Cristina just shrugged, unwilling to divulge anymore. This was between her and Owen, not the entire blasted office. Besides, she could sense a challenge in Callie's voice that she didn't have the energy to respond to. Her decisions were just that-hers. She didn't have to justify them to anyone.

"Look, I get that you're stubborn," Callie said. "And it's your decision, your body. But you need to make sure to think this through. You're not the only one this affects."

Cristina shoved the sandwich into her mouth, biting off more than she could chew comfortably. Still, it was better than rewarding Callie's ridiculous mothering moment with an actual response. It was partly due to irritation at her meddling attempts to make her reconsider, and the startling fact that it was marginally working. At her quick pace of eating she finished the sandwich in three bites, already feeling a stomach ache spread across her abdomen.

"I have a surgery to get to," she said, so keen on leaving the table and company that she would have sprinted away if it didn't draw attention. She turned away before Callie could offer some all-too-insightful parting remark, and headed back out into the hospital.

* * *

><p>The OR was a unique experience. It was as if time was suspended from the moment that first incision was made, all the way to the last stitch. It did not matter what was happening outside the OR, or even inside the surgeon. All that remained was the surgeon and his steady hand. There was nothing else that registered. Nothing that mattered.<p>

In the OR, Cristina could almost forget that her and Owen were estranged. The easy rapport returned, her anticipating his actions as much as he anticipated hers. He rarely needed to ask for an instrument, as she had it poised before he even realized he needed it. The nurses noticed the ease in which they worked. It made them wonder if the rumors were true. Surely they had heard incorrectly. Someone had confused details.

The surgery ended and Owen had one of the eager interns close up. Him and Cristina left the OR and the spell was broken. He could feel splotches of red spread on his back and her face paled. They only paid each other cheap side long glances before departing in opposite directions.

* * *

><p>"So, how's Lexie?" Mark asked casually. Him and Jackson were working on a routine surgery, which made small talk a necessary evil. Luckily, Mark Sloan had always been gifted in that department, even when it was with the man who was dating the woman he loved.<p>

"She's fine," Jackson said carefully. He remembered Mark relinquishing his hold on Lexie earlier, though, and relaxed enough to divulge, "She's freaking out about the boards."

"Yeah, they're a bitch," Sloan said, remembering his own weeks studying for that exam. It was the only time he could remember something that effectively cut off his drinking and womanizing. Never one to abstain for too long, he reclaimed his footing the next night with a rollicking threesome.

Now he would give anything to only have one woman in his bed.

"When is it again?" Mark asked, although he knew the date already. It was always good to give your partner the upperhand occasionally in small talk, though. It levelled the playing field, so to speak. Sure enough, he saw Jackson relax further as he responded with the date. Conversation developed into talk of tests of earlier years, and horror stories to accompany them. Finally the surgery had ended and the two men were saved from spending any more time together. Jackson's thoughts turned toward basketball and the night's dinner plans while Mark idly wondered how much food Lexie had crammed into her mouth while panicking.

* * *

><p>Meredith was accustomed to rejection, to loss, and to the universe fucking her over so many times that she began to wonder if it were all a cruel game played by all the culture-spanning-dieties that she didn't believe in. Despite this, she was still bothered by her husband's continued dismissal of her. Every time she tried to bridge the gap, address the fact that "hey, we have a kid together now!", he would give her that look of his that said he couldn't be bothered with anything beside brooding and brain surgery, and then walked away.<p>

And it was getting pretty old.

Yes, she had tampered with the surgery. Yes, she had kept it from him. But no one was hurt. It was not as if she pulled the plug on someone hastily. Everyone else had accepted what she did and moved on, and _they_ didn't have a small baby hanging in the balance. Everything that they worked for, hoped for, was contingent on them getting past this, yet he put minimal effort into repairing any of the damage that their relationship had withstood. To say that she was bitter was an understatement. Therefore, when he finally got over himself and approached her, she took a page out of the his own playbook and icily replied, "I'm busy right now."

"Okay, we'll talk when you're done?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'll find you."

He paused for a moment, waiting for her to change her mind. She had been chasing him for the past week, after all. He should have known better. Hell hath no fury like a Grey pushed to the side.

Owen watched all of this from his perch at medical records, waiting for the chart on the patient him and Meredith were about to visit. The nurse behind the desk cleared her throat, effectively ending his eavesdropping, and he turned with a congenial smile and took the chart from her. A quick peek told him that Meredith's presence in this visit would function more as a formality of her probation than anything else. Not liking having two marriages on his radar falling to shambles, he told Meredith, "I don't need you here. Go talk to your husband."

"He can wait," Meredith said firmly. "He made me wait an entire damn week."

"You have Zola to think about," he reminded her gently. "I know you're mad. I get that. But just talk to him."

The mention of Zola softened her slightly and she said, "You know, this is really none of your business."

"I know," Owen said. "But as a husband who goes to bed alone, I know at least a bit of what Shepard is going through. And it's hell."

Meredith was struck by the sadness in his voice and murmured, "You really miss her, don't you?"

"Every minute."

She took a deep breath, reluctantly seeing that talking to Derek was the correct choice. The exhale came fully from her mouth, sounding halfway between a sigh and a groan. "Okay," she said. "I'll find you when we're done talking."

She moved in Derek's direction before she could change her mind. He looked relieved when he found her beside him and then he led her to one of their all-too-familiar on-call rooms. The mood was not nearly as cheerful as it usually was when they sequestered themselves in one of these.

"Well," she prodded, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I've been an ass," Derek said. "Plain and simple."

She had expected this, therefore only offering the smallest of nods to say that yes, she did agree that he was an ass-a big one, in fact.

"But that doesn't take away from the fact that you kept this from me. A marriage is built on trust, Meredith. And after what happened, I don't know if I trust you anymore."

There it was, the crutch that their relationship stood on. With enough trust and abandonment issues piled between them to furnish an orphanage, it was a wonder they even made it to the courthouse.

"I don't regret what I did," Meredith held.

"I know that. I just wish you told me."

"Would it have changed anything?"

He frowned, running a hand through his hair-a nervous tick that he always did while frustrated. "No," he finally said. "I still would have been furious. But at least we would have been getting past this together. You keeping this from me, it's like we're divided."

"I was trying to protect you," Meredith said. "The less people knew about it, the better the chances that no one ever would. Besides, if you knew you wouldn't be able to plead ignorance if things took a turn for the worse."

"Maybe you just shouldn't have done it in the first place," Derek proposed bitterly.

"You know that isn't an option."

"I know," he sighed. "Mer, the bottom line is that while there are some unresolved issues here, one thing is clear to me. I miss you. We worked so hard together to get this life, to get Zola. I'm not willing to throw it away so easily."

Meredith felt her anger deflate quickly. She recognized the same despair in his eyes that she felt at the base of her belly since he left. They were miserable, the pair of them, and the solution was simple.

"All you have to do is come home." She paused for a moment, letting herself become lost in the deep pools of his eyes. Her voice softening to a near whisper, she simply said, "Come home."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: So, I just saw a promo for Season 8. OMG. It looks so good. Thus, I was inspired to actually update this one. Hope you enjoy!**

The Twisted Sisters

For all her steel and stubbornness regarding the abortion, Cristina found herself surprisingly nervous that Friday morning. She woke up with a heaviness in her belly. A heaviness in her heart. She had never doubted her decision, yet she couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that something was off. It didn't help to see Meredith with Zola. She had blossomed into the type of mother that Cristina knew Meredith had always wished she had herself. It was alarming to see someone that she had thought of as her mirror image change so profoundly. Usually the niggling voice just behind her eyes was Owen's, but that morning it was herself alone who whispered, "Why can't that be you?"

Still, she pushed through. Second thoughts were natural. It was just like slight apprehension before jumping into a pool or hesitation before answering the phone. She had thought through this, weighing the pros and cons. She simply wasn't ready to be a mother. It wasn't the right time for her and Owen would understand in time.

That last part rang false to even her. Owen would never understand and it was a silent postscript to her reasoning that the moment the appointment ended her marriage would, as well. She knew Owen viewed her decision as a violation of their marriage, their vows. There would be no going back and no going forward. They would be stuck on opposite sides of the issue, neither willing to budge and ultimately, neither able.

Meredith tip-toed around her, knowing better than to pursue inane chitchat. She was supportive in her silence, although Zola's perch on her knee did undermine it somewhat. Cristina still felt the weight in the base of her belly and battled it through copious amounts of cereal. She didn't bother to use a bowl, taking handfuls from the box itself.

"Are you nervous?" Meredith finally asked. "You can tell me if you are."

"I wish he wasn't coming," Cristina said, fully aware that she was evading the question. "He's just making it harder on himself"

"He just wants to be there for support."

"I don't need support."

Zola reached up toward Meredith, taking a hold of her hair. As she wrangled the baby's hand away from the blonde lock Meredith said, "It's good that you will have someone there for you."

Cristina frowned, shoving another fistful of cereal into her mouth. She thought about him while she chewed, imagining his stolid visage as he walked with her towards what would be the end of so much. Her pregnancy. Their future.

Her stomachache worsened.

Breakfast was interrupted by a visitor at the front door. Derek had wandered down from upstairs and headed over to the open the door. Owen stood with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his coat. He looked like he hadn't slept. Probably hadn't. Derek let him in, unsure what exactly should be said to a friend who was unwillingly partaking in the abortion of his child. He settled on a simple hello and Owen had enough courtesy to return it with his own.

Cristina was frozen at the table when he entered. She was afraid to turn and look at him. Her head refused to turn and she wondered when she had become so terrified of her husband. But then he laid a strong hand on her shoulder and she could breathe again. She stood up, grabbing her bag from the chair beside her.

"You want anything?" she asked awkwardly. "Coffee or something?"

"No," Owen said. "We should go."

She gave Derek and Meredith a weak farewell and followed her husband out of the house. Even with the universe of issues between them, Owen still opened the cardoor for her. She slipped in, pulling her bag onto her lap as he slammed the door shut. He climbed into the driver's seat and they drove in silence.

* * *

><p>Callie Torres walked through the pit, leafing through a chart as she headed to her patient's room. Her head was down when she collided with something solid. She launched into an immediate apology but trailed off when she saw it was just Mark. "Oh, you."<p>

"Is that anyway to speak to the father of your child?"

"Sorry, didn't see you there."

"Yeah, you probably should be somewhat aware of your surroundings while you're walking. This is a hospital, you know. Sharp things. Hospital beds. Don't want you to end up in one…" he trailed off as his attention was diverted. Callie noticed the change in his gaze and she looked at him oddly before turning her head to see just what had distracted him.

"Oh no," she said, turning back toward him and sticking her hand in front of his face. "Mark, no."

"What?"

"Leave Lexie Grey alone."

"Who says I'm not?"

"She is happy with Jackson. You two never worked."

"That's not fair," Mark argued, eyes snapping behind Callie again. "Circumstances got in the way. You being one of them, might I add."

"It shouldn't be this hard, Mark."

"Oh, and you and Arizona are easy?"

"No," Callie admitted. "But it's not supposed to be _this_ hard. Trust me, leave little Grey alone."

"I am," Mark said, already figuring out how he could finagle his way into talking to the littlest Grey. "I will."

Callie shook her head, reading his bluff easily. The man was a self masochist. Him and Lexie were like oil and water, but they kept mixing, hoping that one day they wouldn't be forced apart. "Just be careful," Callie sighed. "And stay away from on-call rooms."

* * *

><p>The waiting room was too pristine. White walls. Beige carpet. A selection of magazines carefully chosen for the particular clientele. It was in the OBGYN wing, so it was filled with <em>Parenting<em> and _Woman's Day_. Owen supposed he couldn't begrudge the lack of magazines pertaining to his exact reason for being in the waiting room. It would be a rather offsetting magazine. Still, he resented the underlying tones of hope and joy that permeated the room. Most there were embarking on their future. A new beginning. This was only an ending.

He wasn't allowed to be in the room with her. He could see the relief clearly on her face but it made him anxious. He had held out hope that in the last moment he could change her mind. He had thought, dreamt, that in that room with the sterilized instruments and hospital gown she would see things differently. If she was, he didn't hear anything about it. The minutes stretched on since the door was closed firmly in front of his face and his fists balled tighter.

* * *

><p>Cristina knew the method. She had studied it, memorized it, steeling herself for this precise moment. She had always viewed medicine with a detached eye. It was a science; emotion had no place in it. Lying on the table, however, in a most vulnerable position she was unable to disassociate the emotion from the science. She couldn't compartmentalize it, deduce it to a series of steps and stitches. She was losing too much.<p>

Too much.

It was all too much-the fact that life was expunged with a vacuum. That in seconds something alive and thriving would end up in the bottom of a bin. That this killed Owen, yet he was still waiting outside. That she could do this to him. That she could do this to herself.

They had given her an anesthetic and she fought her eyelids as they grew heavier, pulling down like shades on a window. The nurses floated around her, all seemingly out of her reach as she tried to tell them to stop. She wanted to tell them that she had changed her mind. She could be a surgeon and a wife. A wife and a mother. But she couldn't. Her tongue was too large in her mouth, like a bar of soap wedged in between her teeth. It seemed to fill her entire mouth, lodging her airway. She tried to breathe but nothing happened.

Her eyelids pulled shut and then everything went dark.

* * *

><p>Owen sat beside her bed, leaning forward with one hand resting on her slim arm as he listened to the sound of her breathing. It was steady and even, a welcome sound after what had happened on the operating table. Despite no history of allergic reactions with anesthetics she had experienced a rather severe reaction to the one given to her. He had seen the commotion, nurses rushing into her room. He had initially thought it was some complication from the procedure but was quickly informed that his wife had experienced no complications, she simply wasn't breathing. He had to be physically barred from entering the room.<p>

He was with her now, though, finding comfort in the gentle rise and fall of her breath. Her eyes opened slowly as she stirred from her sleep and she groaned, running her tongue over her dry lips. He grabbed the glass of water from the table beside him and offered it to her. She gladly accepted it, taking several sips.

"You scared the hell out of me," Owen told her softly, taking the cup of water and placing it back on the table. He took a hold of her hand and kissed her palm. "How are you feeling?"

"Like someone in a hospital bed." He smiled slightly, watching her as she shifted to a more comfortable position. He noticed her face go blank for a moment while her hand flew to her stomach. He knew what she was checking for and cleared his throat for a moment before saying, "They had to reschedule, obviously."

Her throat was still hoarse from the trachea as she told him, "I don't want to them to reschedule anything."

"What?"

"I was going to tell them to stop," she said, adding, "Well, before my throat closed up."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I don't want an abortion. Last moment of clarity, I guess." He hardly believed what he was hearing. For weeks she had been nothing but concrete in her decision. This almost seemed too good to be true; like a dream he would wake up from, only to realize that it was all a lie and things were just as messed up as before. But then her thumb brushed his palm and he knew he wasn't dreaming. "This means too much for me to just throw it away," she told him. Her eyes turned glassy as she said, "I won't throw us away."

And then it was Owen's turn to stop breathing. He leaned in toward her, tracing the gentle curve of her cheek with his thumb. He was overwhelmed; words seemed too simple for the maelstrom of emotions coursing through him. A man of action, he chose a response that transcended all manmade language. He pressed his lips to hers, feeling the first sense of comfort in weeks when her mouth moved beneath his. He pulled away first, forehead resting lightly against hers. "We will make this work."

"I know."

"And you will still be the amazing surgeon that you are. And we'll…" he trailed off, wonderfully happy with the course they were committing to. "We'll be a family."

She kissed him softly and murmured, "I love you."

"I love you, too."

* * *

><p>Owen found Meredith in the Pit, explaining what had happened and that he had to leave the hospital for a few a bit to drive Cristina home. He didn't give her the specifics of how him and Cristina were but when she dug in her pocket to pull out the keys to the house he told her, "We don't need them."<p>

She had spied them leaving the hospital a few minutes later, Owen carrying Cristina's bag as they headed out toward the parking lot. Cristina spotted Meredith across the way and said something to Owen, heading over toward her friend afterwards. Meredith could tell something had changed, and from the peaceful look on her friend's face she ascertained that the change was good.

"I'm heading home with Owen," Cristina told her.

"Yeah, he told me."

"So, this means that I won't be needing to bunk at your place anymore," Cristina said. "You and McDreamy can now have sex in every room. Be the disgusting people that you are."

Meredith smirked. "So, does this mean...?"

Cristina nodded, shoving her hands in the pockets of her leather bomber jacket. "Yeah, it does."

"And you're happy about it?" A slow smile spread on her friend's face as she nodded. "Well, look at us. The twisted sisters have become mothers."

Cristina snorted. "God help us."

"God help them."

Cristina smiled slightly before stepping forward and pulling Meredith into one of their rare hugs. "Thank you for everything, Mer. I don't think I could have gotten through this without you."

Meredith pulled away as she said, "I'm your person, Cristina. That's what I do."

Cristina smiled slightly. "Well, I have to go. Owen needs to get back here for rounds-"

"Yeah," Meredith interjected, nodding. "You guys go. Make sure to rest." Meredith watched her friend return to her husband, the two of them disappearing around the corner. She felt a hand on her shoulder and she leaned back instinctually, glancing up at her husband.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," Meredith said, realizing that this was the first day in weeks that she actually did feel okay. It may have taken a while but she felt that things were finally falling back into place.

**A/N: I am thinking of ending this here. While I do have unfinished arcs with Sloan and such, the main plot of this one (CO and MerDer) is pretty much complete. Would you like to see more? Let me know!**


End file.
